


Irreverence

by Piinutbutter



Category: Siren (Video Games)
Genre: Ficlet Collection, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 17:19:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17411042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piinutbutter/pseuds/Piinutbutter
Summary: Hanuda changes everyone.





	1. The Idol

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pettycoat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pettycoat/gifts).



“Devastating earthquakes! Mysterious disappearances! Frightening noises in the dead of night! What horrors await us in the mysterious occult hotspot that is Hanuda? Keep watching to find out!”

Naoko flashed the camera a winning smile, pleased with her delivery of the cliché intro speech. Her grin was deflated by a sigh and ‘cut’ motion from her director.

“Naoko. Sweetie. This is a horror special, not an idol variety show. Tone down the cheeriness.”

The newly-christened occult reporter crossed her arms as the camera man wandered off – probably to take a smoke break. “Who wants to watch a gloomy host? Everyone likes cute girls. And no girl is cute when she’s not smiling.”

“Come on, you’ve watched horror movies,” the director said. “The appeal is in watching heroines wracked with fear. You’ve at least gotta sell that you’re a little scared going in.”

Naoko rolled her eyes. Not for the first time, she cursed all the young up-and-comers who’d stolen drama roles that should be rightfully hers. If she were on a soundstage right now, she wouldn’t be standing in a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, getting rained on. The damn rain was ruining both her hair and makeup, rendering two combined hours of work in front of the bathroom mirror meaningless.

This was her career, she reminded herself. This might be a shitty gig, but it was just a gig. It wasn’t going to kill her.

“Fine.” Naoko turned her back to the director, composed herself, then turned back around. “This is my ‘scared’ face. Happy?”

“Happy.”

“Good,” she snapped. “Now get the goddamn camera man back here so we can finish in time for dinner.”


	2. The Student

It was rare that Yoriko stepped into the Anthropology building in a bad mood. After all, this was where Professor Takeuchi held his classes. That man could make the most boring academic text sound like something out of a fantasy novel. 

Yoriko slid into a desk in the front seat of the run-down lecture hall. The university hadn’t put money into this place in years, and it showed in the heinous squeak her chair let out as she leaned down and retrieved her Folklore notebook. (At least the classroom was empty; Yoriko always made sure to be early for this class.) As she pulled out the notebook, she stuffed the papers from her previous class – the cause of her irritation – into the cavernous main pocket. They could crumple and rip, for all she cared.

“Write about the culture of your hometown!” she chirped to herself in a high-pitched and highly unflattering imitation of Professor Fujiwara. “I hope she’s ready for five pages of nothing,” she grumbled. “Of course I have to come from the most boring town in history.”

The scowl on Yoriko’s face was wiped away with the opening of the classroom door.

“Good morning, professor!”

Professor Takeuchi returned the greeting with the addition of a polite nod, then went about arranging his materials for the class. 

Yoriko tapped her pencil on the table. “Professor?” she ventured. “Is there anything interesting about your hometown? I need inspiration.”

Professor Takeuchi froze in the middle of cleaning the chalkboard. For a moment, his knuckles went white around the eraser. 

“It’s not a very exciting place,” he said, gruff and fast. “Have you finished your homework?”

Yoriko was too excited by the opportunity to show him her research to notice the tension that eased out of his whole body once the subject was changed.


	3. The Bride

Sightless as she was, Miyako knew what she looked like. She’d seen herself through a dozen pairs of eyes. 

With every sightjack came a new insight. Her nature – her blood – forced her to share the emotions of whoever’s eyes she borrowed. Such a skill had taught Miyako her place in the world early in life.

Her family looked on her with a mixture of disgust, fear, and the occasional pulsing vein of jealousy, depending on who deigned to come close to her. As a sacrifice, she was a necessary nuisance. Her four-legged companion stared up at her with adoration and loyalty, but as much as Miyako loved him with all her heart, there was a difference between the affection of an animal and that of a human.

Kyoya, the outsider boy, was the first person to look at her with something unfamiliar behind his gaze. Miyako couldn’t be sure, but she hoped this was what friendship felt like.


End file.
